I Punish Myself
by VampireHunterDragoon
Summary: Frank Castle. Vigilante. Murderer. Sociopath. Victim. A first person account into why Frank has cast aside his humanity.


**Introduction: **You might be curious as to why I wrote I Punish Myself as a script rather than as your regular first person/third person story. The reason for this is that the strength of the tale relies on the powerful images and apostrophic statements, something that I could not get across with the usual standard of fan fiction narration. I Punish Myself gives us a rare look into the mind of Frank Castle, a place that many are reluctant to venture, and rightfully so. To add dialogue and significant amounts of substance to other characters would have made I Punish Myself more complex than it needs to be. Call it laziness if you will, but it was not my inclination to write a grand epic featuring Castle mowing down criminal scum with enough weapons to arm a small nation. What I wanted to do was explore a very simple concept, albeit one with rather dispiriting implications. This is not a happy story. This is not a story that will make you stand up, cheer, and clap. If the story fulfills my intentions, then you will fear and pity the man known as the Punisher, fear and pity him like you would a tiger stuck in a cage.

But you know this already, don't you? You've been in Castle's world before. You've witnessed his anger firsthand, and you've lived to tell about it. You heard the screams, you saw the blood, you smelled the acrid odor of gunpowder, and sometimes you wake up at night, drenched in sweat, afraid that the man who can hardly feel is in the room with you, waiting and watching, waiting and planning.

I'm rambling. I'm taking the show away from the man who deserves it all. The man who has stayed in Hell for so long that he's barely a man.

Cheers.

**FOR NEIL GAIMAN**

Because he taught me that there is not one single right way to write a graphic novel script, and that prevented me from stabbing my brain in frustration.

**I PUNISH MYSELF**

"I'm not a killer. I'm just someone who wanted to make things right. Can't I just let myself forget what you've told me? Can't I just let myself forget what you've made me do? You think I just want another puzzle to solve? Another John G. to look for? You're John G. So you can be my John G... Will I lie to myself to be happy? In your case Teddy... yes I will."

-Leonard Shelby, _Memento_

(First series of panels show New York City in the morning. The capital of the state is a gritty place. Its a cold place where callous animals live under the guise of civilization. It is similar to a very pessimistic form of film noir. We cut to a decadent apartment complex, and then into the cold, dark room of Frank Castle. The room is a mess, but its the kind of personal mess where the occupant knows where everything is. Castle slowly begins to awaken.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: Morning.

(Castle gets dressed in his usual attire. One of the panels needs to focus clearly on his skull shirt.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: Right now, a few blocks away, some John Q. is getting ready to go to work. He's adjusting his tie, and worrying about whether he'll be able to impress his boss at the weekly conference. He'll spend the rest of the day in a cubicle, punching numbers into a computer.

His concerns are mundane. His life is set out for him. Wife, kids, mortgage, health insurance, future college expenses... if he stays within the boundaries of the game, he should make it. All he has to do is live out his life, his dull, grey life, one day at a time.

(Castle stops to consider this, and he stares at the skull on his shirt simultaneously.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: I envy him.

(Castle suits up and leaves the building)

NARRATION/CASTLE: I used to be like that. I used to get up every morning, look in the mirror, and wonder about the kid's grades. I was a husband, a father, and a part of a family. Those were the good times.

(Castle watches a family nearby. There is a father, a mother, and a son. They all look very happy.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: Those were the only good times.

(Frank gets into his car and he drives through the streets. We see plenty of slums and many of the downtrodden. This is a place and a people devoid of hope or optimism. There is nothing but harsh cement, concrete, and gravel.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: But I'm not going to cry over all of that. I already cried once, and it did me no good. They were still gone, and it still hurt.

(Castle grips his chest as if his heart is hurting him. He looks slightly uncomfortable.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: It still does.

(We need a few more shots of a stoic Castle sitting in his car.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: Would I give anything to get them back? Would I go back in time and negate all of my accomplishments? Would I resurrect the scum I sent to the grave and willingly endanger this city in the process?

(Let's get a close up of Castle here. What he's about to say is very important, but his expression shouldn't change.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: Yeah. Yeah, I would.

(Frank pulls up to an abandoned warehouse, and he parks the car in a shady, discrete spot.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: But I can't.

(Castle starts to put on a gas mask.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: I can't and I hate myself for it.

(Four cars arrive at the warehouse at a medium distance from Castle's location. A group of mobsters come out and start conversing. Two men are carrying a separate steel briefcase. It looks like some sort of deal is transacting.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: The anger dulled though. The gun doesn't attract me the way it once did. I'll never forgive myself, but I can live with that.

NARRATION/CASTLE: I have to live with that.

(Castle exits his car and throws a smoke grenade at the mobsters. He walks in the midst of all the smoke and coughing mobsters, and he mows them down with a rapid-fire assault rifle. There is plenty of dark red blood that spurts out of the mobsters. He approaches one mobster, and knocks him unconscious by smashing the butt of his rifle into his face. He grabs this mobster and drags him back to his car. He starts to place him in his car's trunk.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: Some people say that I'm out for revenge.

(We need a POV shot from the angle of the unconscious mobster in the trunk. We should be looking at an unperturbed Castle.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: But I've gotten it a long time ago.

(The car door slams shut. There is nothing but darkness.)

(Castle gets in the driver's seat and drives off.)

(We cut to a wide, dark, open area. The mobster is tied to a chair and is still unconscious. A bucket of water is splashed on him and he immediately regains consciousness. He wakes up sputtering and coughing. Castle just watches him patiently. There is only enough light to reveal that they are in some sort of abandoned shed.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: What I do is punish.

(Castle starts pummeling the mobster as a part of his interrogation. The mobster pleads his innocence and lack of knowledge, and begs for mercy. Castle continues to knock him around when he doesn't hear what he wants to hear.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: I punish whoever harms innocent people for their own gain. I punish those who thrive on other's misery. I punish the mob, the crooked cops, the dealers, the pimps, the terrorists, and the dirty politicians.

(Castle takes a sledgehammer and cracks it against the mobster's knees. The mobster screams in agony and then faints. Castle revives him by dumping another bucket of water on him. He raises the sledgehammer again, this time aiming for the crouch. The mobster starts babbling hysterically.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: Its all a part of my job.

(Castle hears what he wants. He pulls out a pistol from the back of his pants, and he blasts the mobster in the head. A surge of blood, brain, and bone erupt from the back of the skull.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: But after some reflection, I've discovered something.

(Castle places the body in a large plastic bag.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: I would love nothing more than to live a normal life.

(Castle puts the corpse in the trunk of his car and drives off.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: I want nothing more than to be a husband and a father again.

(It is now night. Castle pulls into the docks.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: If I could, I'd become an average joe, work in an office for eight hours every day, and then come back home to my loving family just like before.

(Castle takes the body out of the trunk.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: But I can't.

(Castle tosses the body into the bay.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: I won't let myself.

(Castle watches the corpse sink, and then he walks away.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: See, I'm not just punishing others.

(This panel should focus almost exclusively on Castle. He should look as if he is still trying to retain his undisturbed demeanor; however, there should be cracks in his mask, i.e. there should be some semblances of grief and regret.)

NARRATION/CASTLE: I'm punishing myself.

END

**Afterword:** Frank Castle is probably the most tragic character I've come across in the realms of comic books and graphic novels. Batman is a close contender for this title, and he's still my favorite character, but at least Bruce has friends and family. The people that Batman loves and his refusal to murder prevent him from becoming inhuman. Frank doesn't have such gifts. Frank has no friends, no family, no loved ones, no hobbies, no joys, no life. He rarely, if ever, feels. As I Punish Myself illustrates, Castle has chosen to live this way due to his inability to protect his family.

If Frank was real, and if I had the courage to do so, I'd try to befriend him, get him to become normal again, become a part of the human race once more. That's what I want for Frank: happiness. But Frank doesn't want happiness. He'd look at me with eyes colder than ice and calmly tell me to leave him in a voice that could frighten the most hardened of criminals. And, because I value my life, I would do what he said. Yet as I walk away, I would feel both fear and pity. I'll fear Frank because he's a man who can't die, who won't die, a vengeful ghost trapped in a body that has known far too much pain. A legend. A god. A story told to children so that they follow the law. A whisper of dread and anxiety among the criminal underworld. But I'll pity Frank too because every hero should love. Every hero should laugh. Every hero should know what it means to be human.

Frank won't. Frank can't.

God help you, Frank Castle.


End file.
